


It Ends With Me Tempting You

by PoetryAndPunkRock



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoetryAndPunkRock/pseuds/PoetryAndPunkRock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Human AU. Thirty-one year old Buffy Summers-Finn is a lot of things: brave, athletic, kind, quirky, pretty and, above all, bored. She doesn't know how it happened but somehow her life had become full of days sitting at home alone waiting for her husband, Riley and daughter, Dawn to return home. Taking initiative, Buffy decides to get back out into the working world. But one day an accidental meeting puts twenty-three year old William "Spike" Pratt directly in her path. Recently released from jail and betrayed by the love of his life, Spike is heartbroken, a little dangerous and, possibly, the cure for Buffy's boredom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, the plot is. Fairly obvious.
> 
> A/N: This is the second version of this chapter. I am rewriting what I originally posted and I do hope you like this better. This is the first fanfiction I've written in years, hell this is the first ANYTHING I've written in years, so let me know how you like it. I'm sure there are quite a few mistakes but I am actively searching for a Beta if anyone is offering.

A typical day in the life of Buffy Summers began with a slender arm floundering for the alarm clock, quickly shutting it off before it could wake her husband sleeping peacefully on his side of the bed. Slipping out from under the heavy comforter, she would quietly make her way to the master bathroom and turn on the hot water for the shower, letting the room fill with steam to drive out the nights chill before searching for the days outfit in the attached walk-in closet. Once her clothes were selected and the merits of various shoes considered for a few minutes before settling on the perfect pair, the entire ensemble would be laid out on the chaise lounge in the back of the room. Stripping off one of her many cotton or flannel pajama sets with the fun and quirky prints, she would drop them along with her underthings into the basket by the door on her way into the shower.

The shower began her morning beauty ritual, starting with the thirty dollar coconut scented shampoo that helped keep her hair shiny and blonde and ending with the special, sixty dollar, in-shower body conditioning lotion that was supposed to lock in moisture and keep skin looking youthful. Youthful skin was good, especially now that she had passed the dreaded thirty year mark, but she had mostly bought that one because it left her smelling like strawberries and cream all day long. Grabbing one of the two extra-large, extra-fluffy white towels from the rack beside the shower and giving herself a rub before wrapping it around her body, she would take advantage of the condensation left by the showers steam to clean the bathroom. In the bottom of the small linen cabinet beneath the his-and-hers sink was a basket of cloths and cleaning supplies that she kept for just this purpose. She moved quickly, wiping down the large wall mirror, paying special attention to the burnished gold frame with the subtle but intricate flower patterns before moving on to the long counter and the sinks themselves. She loved the design of the sinks, two large, white marble bowls sitting atop the grey stone of the counter, the water running from an attached spigot that matched the gold of the mirrors frame, but all of their curves and nooks made cleaning difficult so for them she pulled out a small toothbrush. When she was done with the counter area she would turn to clean the large Jacuzzi tub in the corner, paying special attention to the water jets and to the built in bamboo shelves before moving on to give the glass walled shower a quick wipe down. Finally, she would let her towel fall to the floor, using it to wipe up the excess water from the black and white tiled floor before dropping it and her cleaning cloths into the basket on her way into the closet to dress.

Once dressed and accessorized to her satisfaction, she would head back into the bathroom to put away her cleaning supplies and pull out her hair dryer and brush, changing her hair from a soggy, limp, almost brown mess to the shiny, golden tresses that were one of her best features, checking to make sure her roots weren't showing as she went. Dressed and with style-able hair she would head back into the bedroom, sitting at her antique, cherry wood vanity with the uncomfortable stool that matched the rest of the furniture in the dark, masculine room. The vanity was a bit too large for her, but Riley had insisted on the set when they had seen it in the shop, wanting a classically male room to retire to and the set really was beautiful, heavy and solid and simple as it was. She would watch Riley in the mirror as she put on her makeup and styled her hair. Most of the time he would stay deeply asleep until she finished and went to wake him up to take his own shower but sometimes he would stir and slowly, quietly come awake until he was sitting up and watching her, occasionally meeting her eye and smiling in the gentle way she had fallen in love with. He would wait until she was applying the finishing touches before getting up to walk across the room to the bathroom, never saying a word but stopping on the way to drop a light kiss to the top of her head.

Pretty and primped and ready to face the world, she would make her way out of the bedroom, down the hall and down the stairs, past the entranceway and the formal living room and into the kitchen where she would prepare the same breakfast every morning, one cup of oatmeal, one fruit and one glass of soy milk per person. The only thing that changed was the type of fruit. The white dishes looked nice against the light wood of the round, four person table nestled in the sunny corner that served as a breakfast nook, delicate blue floral pattern catching the light from the bay windows prettily.

She would head back up the stairs to open the door at the far end of the hall, picking her way across the toy sprinkled room and opening the white, lacy curtains to let in more light from the wall of east facing windows. Then she would turn to the twin bed with its pastel pink sheets, almost overflowing with pillows and stuffed animals and dolls and one very sleepy little girl. Moving aside the sheer netting of the canopy hanging from the ceiling above the bed to sit, she would gather the child up in her arms, holding her on her lap and brushing back dark hair to reveal eyes stubbornly closed. Rocking Dawn gently, she would murmur little encouragements, telling her it was time to wake up, what a delicious breakfast she had waiting, how much fun she would have at school, until those eyes opened and Dawn took her hand with a quiet "Good morning," and followed her down the hall, down the stairs, through the entryway and the formal living room and into the kitchen just in time to meet Riley for a family breakfast.

Throughout breakfast they would make small talk about their plans for the day. Riley giving vague outlines of his agenda for work, business meetings and presentations and lunches, Dawn eagerly detailing her expectations for her day at preschool in the way that only four year olds can, repetitive and simple but enthusiastic. Buffy would listen and respond, making sure to seem extra interested when she saw Dawn's eyes light up with excitement, extra supportive when she heard any uncertainty in Riley's voice. When breakfast was over, Riley would grab his briefcase and they would walk him to the door. He would give them each a quick kiss on the check and Dawn would wave and shout goodbye until his car turned the corner at the end of the street.

Then they would head upstairs to the bathroom off the hall filled with oh-so-chic Sesame Street décor to brush their teeth together, Buffy with her hot pink toothbrush and Dawn with her special singing toothbrush that helped her brush for the correct length of time via an Elmo led rendition of the ABC's. She and Dawn would have a brief, lighthearted squabble about Dawn's outfit for the day and, usually, Dawn would end up in something that matched. Grabbing her backpack on the way downstairs, Dawn would contemplate her snack choices with the same intensity that her mother did shoes and when she had decided, Buffy would walk her to the sidewalk to wait on the bus. Waiting on the school bus, Buffy would give Dawn a chance to show off her newfound knowledge, asking her to spell small words or do very simple addition and when the bus pulled up she would give Dawn a big hug and a kiss, tell her she loved her and wave after the bus until it was out of sight.

She always walked slowly back up the drive to the house, enjoying the early morning sun and the sounds of birds and neighbors getting ready and leaving for work. She'd admire the flowerbeds and shrubbery on the lawn, make mental notes of anything to tell the gardener or maintenance men and pick up any toys Dawn had missed and left out the previous evening. After cleaning up the breakfast mess, she would head upstairs again to pick up the clothes that Riley had inevitably left on the floor and any mess that he had made in the bathroom. She'd make up the bed and go down the hall to make Dawn's bed, grabbing the laundry from her room and then the laundry from the master suite to take to the room under the stairs that housed the ecofriendly washing machine and dryer, a laundry sorting hamper, a small shelf for detergent and other miscellaneous laundry items and an ironing board with a super cute sunflower print cover that she had bought last spring. After sorting the laundry into whites, darks, lights, and dry clean only, she would wander around the house absently fluffing pillows, unnecessarily dusting and vacuuming idly.

After all of this was done her family had been gone for three hours, it was ten in the morning and she had absolutely nothing to do to fill the five long hours until Dawn returned home. Boredom was Buffy's life, time seemed to slow to a crawl during the weekday afternoons spent alone in the quiet house. Her neighbors worked or kept to themselves, she'd left her friends behind when they had moved to the LA suburbs and she had nothing in her life to keep her occupied beyond her family. The only variations in her routine were her choice of outfit and the type of fruit she had for breakfast.

Today it was a banana and a knee length, black A-line skirt over sheer stockings paired with a white camisole underneath a fitted, white quarter sleeve button up and black, chunky-heeled ankle boots. Her blonde hair was pulled back and she looked altogether quite professional. Or, at least, she hoped she did because today was the day she changed her life. Today was the day she escaped her rut of boredom and the pointless direction her life had gone. Today was the day she, Buffy Summers, got a job.

Well, she hoped she'd be getting a job, she hadn't actually had one in her adult life and she wasn't completely sure how she was going to go about it, ten years was a pretty big resume gap. It wasn't that she'd never worked before, she'd had a part time job at the Doublemeat Palace during high school and she'd been preparing for a job in college, she'd even gotten over half of her degree done on the way to becoming a school counselor. Life, however, had gotten in the way of any career ambitions she'd once held. She sometimes wondered how something as slow moving as her life had overtaken her so quickly. One moment she had been in her junior year of college, the next she was thirty-one, married with a child in the suburbs.

She'd had the best of intentions in college, she'd had a plan. She'd never expected her life to end up like this, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. When she'd met Riley in her sophomore year of college he had been a senior and so sweet and wholesome and just yummy, nothing like Angel, her only other serious relationship that had ended in disaster. Riley had graduated and gotten a great job at a security firm, they had moved in together and starting her junior year, Buffy had been pretty happy. Sure, maybe things with Riley weren't passionate, but they were soft and loving and he made her feel so secure. Then her mother had died and everything had come crashing to a halt.

As the only child of a single parent, Buffy had been incredibly close to her mother. Coming home from class, she'd know immediately that something was wrong, Riley hadn't seemed to know what to say. When he'd finally found the words to tell her, she'd gone into shock and stayed there all through the long drive home to Sunnydale. Sometimes she thought she still was, a little. It wasn't until she had finally seen her mother's…finally seen the body that she had broken down. Buffy had never cried that much in her life, not when her father had left, not when that guy had attacked her coming out of the Bronze that one time, not even when there had been a big gas explosion during her high school graduation.

After her mother's death, it was all kind of a blur. Riley had encouraged her to take off of school for a while to mourn and recover, then he had proposed so there was the wedding to plan, then the honeymoon, he'd gotten a promotion and encouraged her to just wait a bit more during such a hectic time and then Dawn had come along. Now Dawn had a more active social life than her and making dinner was the most exciting part of her day.

But that was going to change. She was going to get a job, even a little one, and she would have somewhere to go and something to do and people to see every day. She wasn't going to sit around the house going slowly but surely insane. She wasn't going to interact with only her family for weeks on end and the majority of her conversations were not going to be about Sesame Street. She was going to move from in front of the full length mirror beside the bench in the foyer, grab her minivan keys, walk out the front door and fill out as many job applications as she could in a day. She was.

Taking a deep breath, smoothing out her skirt and fighting the urge to change her shoes once again, Buffy reached for her purse on the coat rack by the door, double checked that she had her keys, plenty of money and no less than five pens, then stepped outside before she could change her mind.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, the plot is. Fairly obvious.
> 
> A/N: Super short chapter this time but I really wanted to get this up while I could! I’ve already started the next chapter which is much more exciting than these two and should introduce Spike. I’m moving this month from South Korea back to the States so everything is really hectic! 
> 
> Summary: All Human AU. Thirty-one year old Buffy Summers-Finn is a lot of things: brave, athletic, kind, quirky, pretty and, above all, bored. She doesn't know how it happened but somehow her life had become full of days sitting at home alone waiting for her husband, Riley and daughter, Dawn to return home. Taking initiative, Buffy decides to get back out into the working world. But one day an accidental meeting puts twenty-three year old William "Spike" Pratt directly in her path. Recently released from jail and betrayed by the love of his life, Spike is heartbroken, a little dangerous and, possibly, the cure for Buffy's boredom.

‘Well, this is a lot harder than I thought it’d be.’ Buffy thought, trying to arrange her hair back into some semblance of professionalism in the bathroom mirror of the local mall. The florescent lighting was doing nothing at all to boost her self-confidence, she could see every wrinkle in her outfit, and her skin, every smudge in her makeup and every flyaway hair. Applying for jobs had changed since her high school days, she’d gone out ready to be personable, speak to managers and request applications, she’d stocked up on pens and made sure to look her best. When she’d actually worked up her nerve and started going into places, however, she’d largely been directed to apply online or, in a few cases, at little computer stations in the back of the store. She felt defeated, out of touch and old, her life had spiraled beyond her control and it was too late to do anything about it, she was just going to have to resign herself to her routine. Maybe she should take up a hobby, like birdwatching or watching paint dry, something to give her a little excitement.

Sighing, she gave up on her hair and ran her hands down the front of her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. She took a deep breath, looked her mirror self in the eye and tried to portray confidence as she spoke aloud, “You can do this. It’s just a little set back. It’s different but, hey, easier cause now you can sit at home in your pajamas and get a job! Plus, no driving around from place to place like you’ve been doing all day. So, really, this is a good thing. Things have changed for the better.”

She gave a little nod and concentrated on her posture, holding her head up as she left the bathroom and made her way through the mall and back to her minivan. 

 

“So, Buffy, how did your, uh, job search go?” Riley asked, the word “job” sounded foreign and off putting the way he said it. Buffy looked up from cutting Dawn’s chicken, surprised he’d asked. He’d been against her finding a job, couldn’t understand why a life spent waiting for him wasn’t enough for her. He’d urged her to get a hobby, to volunteer or join in with the society wives of his coworkers organizing charity dinners. Buffy hadn’t been able to really explain to him why getting a job was so important to her, how having something just for herself, something for her to do and be that gave her an identity apart from being a wife and mother seemed so vital. He thought it was just a whim, that it had come on suddenly and would disappear just as quickly. Words had never been Buffy’s strong point, she couldn’t explain to him that it hadn’t been sudden at all, that it had been building for a long time. She’d watched all of her friends build careers and social lives, travel and make friends beyond their circle and she’d felt stuck and directionless and a little pathetic in comparison. So she had just let him think it was an impulse, no different than when she fixated on finding the perfect purse to go with an outfit or decided to try a new dish for dinner.

“Umm, not so well, actually,” she found it was a hard thing to admit to him.

“That’s too bad,” he said like he didn’t think it was bad at all, “but, you know, it’s not too late for me to let Lenora know you’re interested in helping to plan that murder mystery dinner the company is throwing. It’s for some sort of animal charity. You like animals, it’d be perfect!”

“Riley…I-”

“I can talk to Robert in the morning, you’ll be great at it, sweetie, and I’m sure all of the other wives will like you if you just make an effort to be personable! What do you think, Dawn? Don’t you think Mommy would love helping out all the animals?”

Dawn smiled up at her Daddy, a green bean half in and half out of her mouth, then turned to Buffy, “Yeah! Mommy likes kitties! Can we bring a kitty home, Mommy?” She looked optimistic, despite having been told many times in the past that she couldn’t have an animal until she was old enough to help care for it.

“Dawnie, honey, you know that’s a talk we can have later. You have to be old enough, remember?” Buffy said gently

“Yeah, but I’m almost old, soon I’ll be as big as you.”

“That’s right, you’re gonna be a big girl soon.” Buffy watched as Dawn went contentedly back to her food before turning to her husband. “Riley, we talked about this.”

“Well gee, Buff, I know but that was before you went out on this little job hunt of yours. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings but the way you’ve been acting all evening, it seems to me it was kind of a flop.” She sometimes wondered if he knew how condescending he could sound. She made sure to keep her voice calm and even, hyper aware of her daughter’s presence and their ‘no arguing in front of Dawn rule.’

“It was only one day and, yeah, I’m a little bummed but I’m not giving up! I just didn’t realize how much things changed with the whole computer revolution thing. I’m going to get online tonight and fill out as many applications as I can. I’ll totally be all with the job having by this time next week!”

Riley just looked reproachfully at his mashed potatoes and dinner finished in silence.

 

Buffy sat cross-legged on the plush couch, her bright pink and yellow plaid pajamas a shocking contrast to the soft blue and grey tones of the family room. Dawn was playing at gardening with her toy vegetables and little toy pots and gardening tools on the rug in front of her while Riley watched a college basketball game from the comfort of his recliner. Buffy was typing away on the laptop filling out application after application, copy and pasting her sad little resume to all of the local businesses with a web page. Every now and then a commercial would come on and Riley would shoot her a half confused, half disapproving glance but he didn’t say anything more. She was grateful for that, despite her earlier bravado she felt discouraged enough without his help.

Finishing up the latest application, this one to the Expresso Pump, she let out a small sigh as she glanced at the clock, standing to stretch before heading back to Riley’s study to put the laptop away. Riley’s study was a lesson in deliberate masculinity, full of weighty, dark wood furniture and heavy burgundy carpeting and drapes. There was no hint of delicacy or a feminine touch, nothing gentle or light about the room. She circumvented the drink cart loaded down with expensive alcohols and glasses that she knew Riley only kept around to impress guests, he much preferred one of the beers from the refrigerator, and opened the door to one of the cabinets built into the wall behind his desk. The cabinet hid another laptop, a printer, a fax machine and various other home office equipment. She sat the laptop in its place and turned to leave but a small pink post it note on Riley’s desk caught her eye.

It looked so strange there amid all of the yellow post its that Riley used, he’d never be caught dead using something pink. Walking closer to the desk she noticed a name, Melissa written above a phone number. For a fleeting second a feeling of suspicion and nervous energy shot through her before she shook it off, Riley had lots of post its with lots of numbers, there next to Melissa was a Mr. Johnson, a Mr. Miller and a Mr. Reed, all with phone numbers. How ridiculous of her to entertain at all the thought that her husband might be unfaithful. Riley had never shown any indication of disloyalty in all the time she had known him. She shook her head a little at her moment of irrational paranoia, deciding that the apprehension and stress of her job hunt was doing funny things to her emotional state and made her way back to the family room to kiss Riley goodnight and get Dawn ready for bed.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, the plot is. Fairly obvious.  
> A/N: Another short chapter but I figure people would rather have short chapters more frequently than longer chapters farther apart. If you'd rather I wait until I have more substantial chapters, let me know. Spike finally shows up in this chapter! I'd still like to find a beta, if anyone is interested.

'Deep breath, deep breath, in and out, in and out.' Buffy really had to calm down, she'd already hit the trashcan pulling out of the driveway, gone up on the curb more than once and sat through two rounds of a traffic light until the car behind her beeped and startled her out of her minor anxiety attack. It was hard to settle down, though, when she was on her way to her first day of training at her actual job where she would make actual money with actual work all on her own for the first time in a very long time. After submitting nearly forty applications, getting called to only seven interviews was demoralizing and then receiving no call backs had crushed her spirits even farther over the past three weeks, especially combined with Riley's poorly hidden delight. She'd been trying her hardest to keep a positive attitude but she had been growing more and more hopeless. Then, two days ago, the call had come and now she was a gainfully employed woman. A gainfully employed woman who felt as though she may throw up at any second.  
…  
As William "Spike" Pratt idled at a stop light on his stolen motorcycle squinting at the bright afternoon sun and trying to fight his developing hangover-induced migraine he wondered, yet again, how exactly he had ended up on his way to a suburban mansion at eleven in the morning to have a semi-polite meeting with the white collar criminal and prominent head of a successful law firm who had stolen the love of his life. This time last year Spike had been gloriously happy, twenty two years old and drunk on love, life and the finest whiskey his beautiful dark goddess could provide, and what she could provide had been the very best.

He let out a harsh breath as the image of his Drusilla floated through his mind, When they'd met, the heiress had been in her late thirties, with an ageless beauty and fluid grace as well as just a touch of delightful insanity and William had been seventeen, just out of high school, almost ready to start college and unbelievably pathetic. Drusilla had seen something in him, something even he didn't know was there and she'd swept him up, shaped him carefully into the man he was now. Spike had fallen in love instantly. Five years he had given her, he had worshipped her, hurt her when she needed to be hurt, taken all of the pain she gave out, indulged her every whim, done everything she'd asked and tried his hardest to make her happy only to be found wanting. He had stolen, bribed, intimidated, blackmailed and fought for his wicked and wonderful lover. He'd been happy to be her instrument, gloried in the new man he'd become under her guidance, he'd indulged his darkest impulses and she had shown him things he didn't know he'd wanted.

Then it was all over as quickly as it had begun. That bastard, Liam Angelus, had arrived in town and stolen Spike's reason for being with barely a crook of his finger. Drusilla had been more than willing to keep Spike around, "Like a little pet dog." she'd said. He had tried to wait it out, to convince himself that this was just another of his capricious lover's eccentric fancies, soon to pass. But Spike couldn't tolerate seeing her go again and again to Angelus' bed, couldn't bear getting up every morning to see the lovely fresh marks on her skin that certainly hadn't been made by him, alone as he was in a cold bed. Angelus' subtle and not so subtle taunts had certainly not helped and when he'd come in one night to find them in his own bed it had been the breaking point. He'd done the unthinkable and left the woman he'd thought he would be with forever.

And now? Nearly a year later Spike wasn't quite sure what he was doing, his entire life felt unstable. Adrift, without a purpose, he'd rented a small, furnished apartment on the edges of the bad side of town and taken to going out every night to fight and drink and fuck away his sorrows. He'd once tried to enter into a new relationship (and hadn't THAT been a disaster, that Harmony bitch just could not shut up) but otherwise the string of women were a physically, but not emotionally, satisfying blur. All of a sudden, here he was, rushing to his ex-lover at her command, like the whipped dog she seemed to think he was. God he missed her. His black goddess, his flawless princess, his wicked, ripe plum, his-

"-stupid, worthless BITCH! I'm not your fucking toy! Look what you've done to my life!" Spike was shouting into the ether of the suburban sprawl, angry and close to sobbing, though no one was out on the street to hear him. Getting control of himself, staring impatiently at the red light ahead, wishing he could just run it but not wanting to risk a picture of himself on a stolen bike in the intersection cameras, he seriously considered saving his pride, turning around to head back home and drink himself to oblivion. It would probably be the smarter idea, it would only hurt him to see Drusilla wrapped in Angelus' arms again.

He was still debating with himself when he was knocked off of his bike and over the hood of the silver minivan that had crashed into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please let me know what you think, I was quite nervous writing from Spike's pov, I'm much more comfortable with Buffy. If you didn't really like it, let me know and I'll stick with Buffy, if you liked it let me know and I'll try to do it more frequently. Either way, the set up is finally done and the plot begins next chapter!


End file.
